


Death Against the Lights

by DeathjunkE



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Relationships, Dystopia, Gen, M/M, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 20:17:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathjunkE/pseuds/DeathjunkE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry defeated Voldemort and was imprisoned. Now the members of the DA must come together and free him and wizarding society of its problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Against the Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Songquake, I hope you like it, because this fic turned out nothing like I had planned. It was originally supposed to be a fun piece where George and Seamus shagged like bunnies and Kingsley joined them. Somehow, it didn’t work out that way; the fic became post/wartime and dark. Not to mention not as much smexing as I had anticipated. Because of the way this ended and how attached I’ve gotten to the plot, I’m pretty sure I’ll be writing a sequel.

_Let us begin…_

Honestly, I don’t think I’ve really absorbed what’s been going on. All I know is that things have gotten really bad. If they weren’t so bad I think I’d laugh—hell, if Fred were here I’d laugh. 

But alas he’s not, and I don't.

It's just all really fucked up the way things happened. It started that day when Fred and I helped what I had thought at the time was just an exceptionally scrawny, scared and lonely firstie. I wasn’t wrong, he was lonely, scared and a whole host of other things, but he also was Harry Potter. Harry Potter, defeater of Voldemort and all around symbol of power and hope in our world.

To me, he looked like a puny ankle biter who was smaller than Ginny. I felt bad for him. His clothes were six times too big, his hair a mess, his glasses held together with tape and with only an owl for company. He was so small and timid that I took pity and sent Ron his way.

Ron, there’s something special about him. 

Yeah, he may be overemotional and prone to envy. He's got self-esteem issues, a fear of spiders - I admit I'm at fault here – and he's a bit slow on the uptake. He has a bit of a gap between his front teeth, hardly noticeable. But he makes everyone feel at ease. He’s not pushy like Ginny, careless like Fred or devious like me. He isn't bossy like Percy, or wild like Charlie. He hasn't Bill's cool and assured demeanor. His strongest personality trait is his frank kindness.

I still don't know if I made a bad move there or everything was just circumstantial.

They became closer as friends and then added Hermione to their little party. I watched my brother and his friends grew close and more mature. On occasion, Fred and I stepped in to assist: rescuing Harry from those horrid Muggles; passing on the Marauder’s Map; making the baby whale’s foul little tongue swell; the DA; running off Umbridge; the war effort.

That’s why I never really expected things to take a turn for the worst.

I met every article and whisper of Harry’s mental instability with the same amount of disdain. The boy was doing his best to warn everyone of You-Know-Who's return and keep fighting, and all they did was spew doubts, vitriol and accusations at him. The poor thing was a wreck; Ron and Hermione were what held him together. 

When things got worse, I became accustomed to seeing Ron with heavy circles under his blue eyes that scanned the room, tracking his two companions at all times. Harry was never out of reach – only Ron could break visions Voldemort sent, whether Harry was asleep or not – and Hermione was never out of sight. They functioned as a natural unit — as one person – better than Fred and I ever had. 

Then came the battle of Hogwarts. Fred was struck down while he stood by my side because Percy doesn’t know when to keep his fucking mouth shut. The school was practically demolished and the body count continuous. I was fighting on the great lawn watching Death Eaters kill order members when everything just stopped  
Harry had killed the Wizarding World’s worst nightmare. 

You’d think that the Wizarding community of Britain world would be grateful, hm?  
\- But then I’d think you a moron. 

For the sacrifices he made - his family, childhood and happiness- Harry got to go to Azkaban. Got a one-way ticket to the underground security cells with the magical drain fields.

As you can imagine, that situation didn’t sit well with everyone. 

Hermione tried to get the ministry to listen to reason. They removed her from the building and even changed the wards to keep her out. Ron tried to appeal to the Order of the Phoenix but he was turned down. They were tired of war. They were tired of fighting and fear. Luna Lovegood tried to stir up the public and organize a petition or protest, but the public just wasn’t interested.

On the second of September, five months after the final battle, the DA, led by Hermione and Ron, vanished from society.  
\---` 

In my absence, Dad, Percy and a squib cousin I haven’t seen in about six years are running the shop. I get my monthly updates from the goblins and I know business is doing well. It’s a comfort to me to know my family is well cared for while I’m stuck in this unfamiliar place. 

Ironworth Court, ancestral home of the Potters and virtual fortress. The place is made of stone, littered with secret passages and hideaways, which, according to Hermione, are only known by welcomed residents, boasting of two feet thick, spell-repellant walls, and built on an ancient magic font.

Apparently, Harry had come into his full inheritance while in Azkaban. He had given Ron control of his estates. Ron had opened up the ancient stronghold and ushered the DA inside. 

Upon our arrival, we all stood in the grand foyer facing Ron and Hermione. I looked around, taking a head count. Without Harry, Fred and Colin, only twenty-five of us were left. And of the missing members, only one had a chance to ever return to us.

I watched as Ron spoke to the three house elves that had greeted him. Apparently, they were the head elves of the contingent of elves that lived for and severed the Potter family. He nodded to them, and then turned to us. It was only when he spoke that I realized how much my baby brother had grown. His voice was raspy and slightly weary, but his tone was firm. “Voldemort is dead and gone, thanks to Harry. He never thought he could win, but he confronted him anyway. He wanted to help in any way he could. You all know that Harry never once put himself before the cause. He was willing to lay his life on the line for all of us.

We all fought with Harry. We all gave our support and our childhood for the war of the last two generations. We fought off evil and almost certain destruction for the ungrateful masses. 

But isn’t it funny, that when everyone pinned their hopes and expectations, their blame, doubt and vice on Harry, he never once said, forget it. When the Wizarding World thought he was crazy, when Voldemort kept trying to take over his mind, when everyone thought he was evil, he still fought.

Had it been me... I’d have given up.

But Harry, for all his flaws, was never a quitter or a coward. He was generous and forgiving. He protected those who insulted him and dragged his name through the dirt, and never asked for a damn thing in return. They say no good deed goes unrewarded, and because of that I think we should give him a gift. Let's give him his freedom. 

If you want to help me, please stay. I’ll warn you, it won't be easy, it won't be nice and it sure as hell won't be fun, but we will be victorious. If you feel like this is too risky, or you don’t want to or can’t handle it, please step forward. We will not think any less of you. But Hermione will erase you memory of this place for safety reasons.”

No one moved.

\---

My time at Ironworth Court just seems like an endless dream nowadays. 

It was all just one big battle. 

Almost everyone was paired with a partner. There was no choice, just Hermione calling out the names of people that she said were compatible, magically, combat and ability-wise. I’ve got to admit Hermione knew what she was talking about. 

Dennis Creevey and Susan Bones made an excellent reconnaissance team that just about trounced every pair they faced. Dennis had a knack for disabling, stealth and delusion spells while Susan quickly mastered several surveillance, mimicry and suggestive charms.

Longbottom was paired with the Ravenclaw Patil sister. While both were quiet and rather withdrawn, they were gold as an offence team. That girl’s spell repertoire seemed endless, and Longbottom’s own massive magic reserves and his physical combat skills complemented her well.

Terry Boot was paired with Angelina. I was actually surprised she'd decided to stay, being five months pregnant and all. I'd wanted to make her leave the court; there was no reason to risk my brother’s baby! But she was a priceless locator; her natural talents for scrying and locator spells would come in handy. Boot also proved to be competent enough to protect her and himself.

I was paired with one of my brother’s year mates, Seamus Finnegan. He was a taller than me by about an inch, with dirty-blond hair cropped just under his ears, his jaw softly squared, as if he’s not lost all his puppy fat. We didn’t really mesh at first. It was hard to adjust my personal style of combat and my way of thinking to suit someone other than Fred.

As with all magical, identical twins, one was the source of power, bearing their magical core and providing magic for both of them. In our case, the source of power had been me. Mum had told me that I was lucky that Fred died instead of both of us. That was what happened to our uncles Gideon and Fabian, Fabian was the power source, his death left Uncle Gideon with out magic. Uncle Gideon died five minutes after his brother. Wizards without magic cannot survive. Magic is the equivalent to oxygen for our kind; if there is no magic there is no life.

Our magical core was inside of me, but we both drew our strength from it. Fred could have drawn from another person with compatible magic and large enough reserves, but he wouldn’t have. I knew my brother well enough to be sure of that. He would have died of magical deprivation rather than considering the possibility of attaching to someone else’s magic. It's a deeply personal thing to do.

Where Fred had been was wild and reckless Seamus was just wild; where Fred had trusted me completely and unquestioningly, I was now always forced into explaining in detail to Seamus. When I had been cold, alone or in need of comfort at night, Fred had been there for me to wrap my body around his. Seamus slept in a queen-size bed, fifteen feet away.

It was a new experience, learning how to trust someone, who, for all intents and purposes, was a stranger. But I had to, or else I would have starved. 

You see, Ron and Hermione can be cruel when they want to be. The purpose of our isolation was to turn us in to an unstoppable military force. Everything was turned into a battle. Every morning we each had our DA galleon tied to our person and waited at the door. When the chime rang the door swung open and we had to get to the dining hall. 

The only obstacles were the other members of the DA. You dueled, ambushed, and used secret passages and any possible means you could to get a second galleon. But the catch was a killer; both you and your partner needed two galleons to get something to eat. Both teammates had to win at least one duel, or neither of them ate.

After breakfast, when the sun was beginning to make an appearance, we each completed a physical regiment including running, crawling, push-ups and sit-ups, wall climbing, combat flying, physical combat, obstacle courses and field dueling. Only those who won at field dueling were allowed a hot meal for lunch, the rest made do with a dose of pepper-up.

From there, we took our time to raid the libraries and discuss any spells we researched that we should learn discussing which of the researched spells we should learn, and from there on, we’d taught each other spells and practiced. Though more than half of us were hungry we didn’t hold grudges, just promised to do better. 

At about one p.m. we made our way to the grand foyer and split into three different groups, rotating every three days, so that we would all learn the skills needed. Ron led the Animagus group, surprisingly enough. Anthony Goldenstein was our instructor for recognizing and changing battlefield terrain, and Luna Lovegood headed the group dealing with battlefield sign language and signal recognition. 

Except for Luna, who had been charged with keeping the hollows and taking care of Harry’s godson, Teddy, every one had been assigned a partner.

I had wondered why, it was clear that she was an excellent duelist and it seemed strange that she was left out. She never once complained or looked remotely upset. Luna stood alone in her duties with an eerie grace. Once I approached her after group had ended for the day and asked her if she was upset about being left out of the main proceedings. 

She shook her head and smiled, running her fingers through the baby's blue hair. “We all need to help in any way we can. To do what the rest of you are doing requires that you trust me.” She looked me dead in the eye. I felt about three inches tall. “The only one who’s ever placed his trust me like that is Harry. So I will look after what he holds dearest. This one, Ron and Hermione.”

\---

I had taken the time and effort to finally get to know and adjust to Seamus. It had been out of necessity at first. We needed to eat, and fighting other pairs on our own just left us as an open target, not to mention arsed out and hungry. 

Soon, I started seeing his good qualities. He was steadfast, deliberating and a shameless flirt whose goal in life was to own a bakery where he could chat up every pretty young thing with a sweet tooth. I learned even more about him over time.

I learned he was a half blood with three sisters, one of whom was a Muggle. I learned that he felt guilty for thinking Harry was a nutter for the first half of his fifth year. I learned that he'd at one point had a crush on Ron, but that was halted when he realized he’d never get a chance at him. I learned liked his food separated, and if it intermingled on his plate, it made him nauseous. I learned he liked it when a friend or lover brushed his hair. I learned that he liked to have his hair pulled during sex. That he liked having his nipples pinched and his shoulders bitten when he was being fucked into the mattress. I learned that a good duel and a boost of adrenaline made him horny as hell and completely compliant to my wishes.

The first time we fucked was invigorating. The perfect pick me up after another day without a proper meal - Seamus’ fault, I assure you - and rigorous exercise. 

It started during a drill. It was two in the morning when our door opened. The chime informed us that this was a last man standing drill. We shared a glance, “So how’s this gonna play out?” 

Seamus pulled the door closed behind us and glanced up and down the corridor. “We’ll do this thing together until we face off, alright with you?”

I nodded and pressed myself against the wall, leading the way to the uppermost tower. I had committed the fortress to memory, it was only logical to do so, it had served Fred and I well once upon a time. I peered along the corridor and saw nothing unusual. I gave the signal and inched forward, the moonlight illuminating the stone corridor very well, but the windows were large and it just wouldn’t do to be ambushed by whoever had made it to the broom shed.

We crept forward, crouched to the ground, Seamus’ fingers on the small of my back. If he tapped a certain rhythm then I'd know we were being followed or ambushed. I was hyper aware of everything, my breathing, the cool air, those fingers, it was all so intense and still. 

I took another step and found myself upside down, suddenly caught in an anti-gravity mist. I started working on the counter spell while Seamus was looking for the perpetrator. He didn’t find him in time, though. When Seamus turned his back to me, looking around the corridor, an arrow spell caught him in the thigh, forcing him onto his knees. Still kneeling, he began casting offensive spells while I countered the spell.

Once my feet touched the flagstones, I threw out two packs of Peruvian Darkness Powder, felt for my partner and ran, pulling Seamus up and with me down the hallway, stumbling through the darkness – again, I took the lead. We turned up the next corridor, seemingly empty save for the suits of armor lining the walls.

“We have to turn back.” Seamus hissed into my ear, making me stop short. “We’re being herded.”

“How are we--” I caught the echo of metallic footsteps and saw the armor from the corridor we'd just left following us. “Shit. You’re right.”

“ **Expulso!** ” The spell echoed through the hall and one of the crystal chandeliers overhead burst, forcing us forward to avoid the rain of glass. I hissed as glass shards nicked my face and hands, but held my wand at the ready. “ **Oppugno! **”****

Seamus pulled me back just as three grizzly bears appeared from thin air and lurched forward in a roaring group, and started shooting off spells as I conjured and powered the shield around us. It took a few tries, but I dispelled the bears, making them dissolve into thick black smoke. 

 

“Fuck, we’re fighting Neville,” he called as we watched a big horn desert sheep lower its head and charge towards us. Those thick rounded horns could break bones, and Shea was a sitting duck with his injured leg. Without a second thought I pulled my cloak off and threw it in front of me while shooting a hasty **Duro** at it. 

The crash was impressive. Neville went down, unmoving and silent. Two status spells assured us he was just knocked out, neither concussed nor dead. We'd been lucky to avoid a physical confrontation. Neville is a timid guy but one hell of a fighter when needed. His magic reserves are massive, just as large as Harry’s, but the difference was that he preferred hand-to-hand combat. If he got within arms length of you, all hope of winning the fight was shot to hell.

We pushed Neville towards the wall, away from the widows, and again moved through the darkness. It only took a few minutes for us to reach the next battle. There were unconscious and bound bodies everywhere, and standing before the prize of the night was Luna, her wand poised and ready as she shifted back into a more comfortable stance, adjusting to the weight of the child on her hip. She glowed with the faint blue-silver light of her magic as she battled Lee Jordan. Her aim was exact and her fighting style, just like her, was completely unorthodox and unpredictable.

Her eyes flickered towards us. “One man free for all,” she said, her voice calm and cool as if she wasn’t fighting tooth and nail against an excellent spell-caster like Lee. 

Suddenly the stones beneath our feet and around us began to rearrange themselves and sweep us away from the battle. That was it, we were unceremoniously dumped into a doorless room where there was barely enough room to lie side by side.

I was on top of him, panting heavily as I tried to find my equilibrium once more. But my hips slid forward. My pelvis brushed against his. Whether it was adrenaline or actual attraction, I don't think I’ll ever know. All I did know was that we were wearing far too many clothes, and there were other things we could do involving our hot, sweaty and out of breathe selves. 

We never kissed, but we did fuck. 

He was pretty interesting, too. He writhed and gasped when I bit down on his nipples and moaned for me to fuck him harder. I complied, and I fucked him until his shoulders and head were slammed against the cold stonewalls. 

He was squirming so much that I grabbed his head and pulled him closer to me. He moaned and came all over his stomach. He was still shooting while I really got into the rhythm; I pumped my hips and barreled into him as he lay still, just absorbing me—my frustration and everything else I was offering. 

He had torn somewhere along the line, but it seems he didn’t notice. As blood slicked up my cock, he breathed in deeply and began to get hard again. I always felt guilty about it, because just as he was really gearing up for round two, I came and collapsed on top of him with a satisfied grunt.

\---

It was amazing how resilient we all were. After months of being exhausted and perpetually hungry, the DA was closer than ever. Everyone had found comfort in each other and our purpose. Every pair had become close, to the point that it was odd to see a person alone.

\---

I was told it would be Christmas Day when we’d break into Azkaban and free Harry.

The Aurors would mostly be home, there would be a skeleton crew at Azkaban and we would take advantage of it. No casualties on our side would be tolerated. If we had to kill, so be it.

\---

On Christmas Eve we all geared up for our mission. Somehow, Ron had managed to have Basilisk skin armor made for all of us, even for Harry, whose suit he now carried on his back. There were packets of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, potions and back up wands to be packed, as well as food tablets, explosive amulets and a dozen other things we were trained to keep on our person.

I waited in the grand foyer moving back and forth, still amazed by the lightweight of the plated scales of my armor, when I saw Luna. She walked with a hand guiding the high-rimmed floating basket at her side. In it, I could see Teddy, playing with some small trinket or another and my niece, Francis, was napping besides him. 

Francis had been born a month early. She was adorable, with chubby cheeks, little freckles and a shock of Weasley red hair. At only a week and a half old she was often looking around and turning her head at every new sound. I couldn't wait for this mess to end and for Mum to see her first grandchild.

Luna was outfitted in a tight, shimmering bodysuit of Basilisk underbelly skin, it was the second most durable and practically impenetrable part of the beast. Over that she wore a long robe made of basilisk skin, too. She was covered by armor from the bottom of her jaw to her ankles, and her heeled boots were also made from same material.

I was confused as hell because I'd been told she would be staying here with the babies. She smiled at me and walked over. The Clicking of her heels echoed through the foyer. “I wish you well in battle.”

“Thank you.”

“You look troubled,” she inquired as she reached into the basket, pulling out Francis and handing her to me. “What's wrong? This doesn’t seem to be battle anxiety.”

“It's not. I’m just uneasy about the Dementors.” I gingerly fingered the area my ear used to reside in. “I don't know if I can cast my Patronus any longer.”

“Is that so?” She reminded me of the wind, untouchable but able to touch you. She was gentle, but I had seen her fight and knew that the hands that cradled my niece could easily snap me in two. Lovegood was a walking contradiction. “I’ll loan you mine for a while then.” She kissed my cheek and began talking to the children in a language I couldn’t understand.

“Are you going to fight as well?”

“No,” she said, still not taking her eyes off of the babies. “Ron had me connect with the magical font and the manor. I can no longer leave it.”

“So why the armor? You're wearing more of it than any of us who are going to Azkaban.”

“To keep this place safe, I will have to go in a trance until the master of the house comes and wakes me up.”

“And if he doesn’t?” I couldn’t keep the question to myself. There was always a chance of death. I wasn’t naïve any longer, my brother had fallen in battle beside me. 

“I will wait, and he will come.”

She was so sure, I wish I had been as well.

\---

Somehow things had gone pear shaped, and it was pandemonium of a new and escalated level.

The Dementors had readied themselves for our arrival. We fought bitterly and hard using Patroni, Magic Circles, Blessed Suzu Bells and every other tool at our disposal. So far, our numbers were stable and our maps were correct. Hagrid had always been easy to wring information out of when he was toasted.

Seamus and I streaked down the halls, passing guards and the wailing, raving lunatics that had once been prisoners of this place. Now they were prisoners of their own minds. Dementors on our heels and human guards ahead, we pressed on. Shea levitated the guards and threw them at the Dementors, who were visibly confused: were they prey or one of the untouchable human guards?

Eventually they figured it out and came toward us, flashing their grotesque mouths and eye hollows as their robes flapped on cold wind. I flicked my wand and something that looked like a miniature troll with the horns of a full-grown ibex leapt out and ran down the hell beasts. I breathed a quick sigh of relief. My soul was still mine for now, and now I finally knew what a Snorecack looked like.

I turned the corridor after my partner and we saw our group all there and accounted for. Shea stepped closer to the door and turned his back on it. I'd keep going from here and he'd keep watch, as would the other six staying with him. The rest of us would enter the maximum-security wing. Then we’d split in the end. Only five of us would enter the magical suppression chambers. 

In the suppression chambers, I stood between Neville and Parvati. We had the largest magical cores, and if someone or something managed to get past the others, we had the best chance of stopping it before it reached Hermione and Ron. Parvati and Neville watched the door, standing still and not really seeing what happened inside.

I, on the other hand, watched everything. 

I watched Ron knock the guard, who was twice my age and almost the same size as Hagrid, aside. He stepped up to the gate, just like the man he’d become, wrapping the fingers of his huge hands around the bars and pressing his body against them. Hermione hovered behind him, her small hands resting on his.

“Harry,” he called into the pitch-black cage. “I’m here.” His voice was sure and strong, as if he was certain that the Dementors and the darkness and the lack of magic wouldn’t have changed Harry. As if he’d just run to the store for something and announced his return stepping through the door. Like Dad called when we were all home and he strolled in from work.

I couldn’t see anything in the darkness of the cell, but apparently the other two could. Ron stepped back and Hermione waited at his elbow. Both shifted and then forced themselves to still, like faithful dogs waiting for their master. 

A small pale hand moved between the bars and gestured to the guard that cowered in the corner.

Hermione flicked her wand at the stranger and kept it pointed at him. “Open it, now.” When he didn’t move, she shot a bone breaker hex at the man’s collar, making him scream in agony. Her face never changed, it was the same expression she wore when proof reading an essay, detached and critical. “Open the door, or I'll start summoning carnivorous slugs.” The man stumbled forward and pressed his hand to the gate. Runes lit up and he muttered an incantation. The door opened, slowly and with an ungodly squeal. 

Harry walked out of the cell. I noticed his feet were bare. He looked too thin and too pale in the striped prison jumpsuit. But his eyes were the same leaf green and just as sharp as they had been before the battle. His hair had grown to his shoulders, which had broadened out some more.

Harry unbuttoned the jump suit and stripped, indifferent even though we all could see him. He slid into the jeans and t-shirt Ron handed him before donning the Basilisk armor. He held out his hand wordlessly, and Hermione placed his own holly and phoenix feather wand into it.

The ‘Savior’, as they used to call him, turned to Ron first, and threw an arm up around his neck and placed a hand on his stomach before he dragged my little brother down into a lip lock I was positively envious of. They continued their carnal greeting for almost a full minute before Harry turned to Hermione and ran his hands through her hair and up and down her body as he kissed her mouth several times, each kiss deeper than the last.

The man who had faced death and survived, looked at the guard and with a wave of his hand ended his life. 

The master had come.

\---

I watched with dulled senses as Harry addressed the audience. Twelve of us DA members stood behind him, six to his left, beginning with Hermione, and six to his right, beginning with Ron. I was the third from his right.

“It seems that I wasted quite a bit of my time,” he snarled, his green eyes like cold hard gems, the color of his basilisk armor. That skin was from the head and throat of the serpent, the strongest, impenetrable and beautiful, just like Harry was now. “I destroy the product of your prejudice and bloodlines and errors with out even requesting compensation. The invoice is here, ladies and gentlemen.” 

He pulled Gryffindor’s sword from the sheath and walked up to the kneeling figures. They were lined in rows and held at wand point by members of the Defense Association.

Harry loped off Minister’s head with one swift blow and continued to do so down the line. The heads of the ministry and the twelve members of the Wizengamot were all dead by the time he had walked across the stage.

“Moral of the story: don’t write a check your arse can’t cash. I’d like to let you know that yes, this is your doing, and no, I will not change my mind. There is no ministry anymore, there is only the Defense Association, and Myself.”

My stomach dropped and my body came into full awareness. Shea grasped my hand tightly and squeezed. I squeezed back. It was frightening to see what Harry had become. The Dementors didn’t do this, but years of neglect, abuse, backbreaking responsibility and persecution had created the man before me. In that moment I feared him in that moment and I was sure the others felt the same. I turned to look at Ron. He stood still, tall, with a look of pride and love on his face. He was too close to Harry, too much in love to see what was happening, as was Hermione. I looked to my right gazing at Seamus from the corner of my eye, surely he found this just as disgusting as I did. 

 

When he turned to me with a wide grin, and I felt suddenly sick.

End


End file.
